This Week in Milford

November 18, 2019

Marty Uses Dr. Frazier Crane’s Catchphrase

Filed under: Fontastic, Marty Moon, Pissy faced Chet Ballard — nedryerson @ 8:24 am

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So this is going where we kinda thought it was going. Chet Ballard’s anonymous tip to The Milford Star went nowhere, so he’s taking his grievances down to the lower levels of the Milford media landscape. Hello, Marty Moon.

Let’s start with the best part of this development: We’re introduced to a new drinking establishment somewhere in the Milford area. It’s The Anchor Bar (or maybe it’s The Anchor Bap or even The Anchor Bop). It’s a classy place where a classy guy like Chet Ballard can drink a bottle of beer. It also has a big sign…maybe, that second panel is just confusing, geometrically speaking.

So Chet appears to be easing into his airing of grievances, mixing in his general displeasure with Gil’s coaching results (“He never wins the big games”) with a ginned up version of Sam Finn’s trip to the ER. (Sam collapsed because a virus was spreading around at home…or that’s what Gil would have us believe wink wink).

We’ll wait and see how Marty reacts to any of this. We’ll also wait to see how Chet broaches the subject of Chance Macy’s checkered past as well as how Marty reacts

Until this develops, I’ll just hang out here at The Anchor Bar and have a Negroni and a scotch egg. What’re you guys havin’?

November 16, 2019

Much Ado About Turnovers

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Well TWIMers, I think we’re justified in pulling this old chestnut back out of the fire. You didn’t have to be in the Houston Astros’ bullpen to see all this coming.

Sure enough, Gil’s poorly prepared Mudlarks collapsed like a house of cards against the Jeffs, Charlie Roh got his touches in garbage time, and pissy Chet Ballard got on the horn to Marty Moon.

Chet’s little prank call to Marjie didn’t put Chance on the bench; what makes him think calling Marty will do the same? That idea is as outdated as the physical inbox on his desk. Only Marty gets on-air digs at Gil; it’s in the call sign after all. Now it remains to be seen just how Moon will hold up the code of omertà he has with Thorp and give Ballard his comeuppance. Hot mike like B/Robby Howry, or something a bit more subtle?

A wee bit of credit where credit’s due: at least Chet didn’t run over or through that stop sign in front of his car while he was dissing Gil. If he had, his next call might have been to Del Bader’s lawyer.

November 7, 2019

We’ll Do The Absentee Coaching Around Here.

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What? The Haley’s M.O. Moment was just a put-on? Chance really wasn’t constipated? His bowels were moving fine, he didn’t need Mudlar-K-Cola Prune-Enriched to fuel his Toyota Corolla jump? He really wasn’t M.-O.K.??????????

What was he doing in the Port-o-Pot? A better question is what happened to all that T. P.????????? I heard of taking one for the team but this is ridiculous. I’m glad he stepped aside by faking his stomach cramps but there is an unaccounted-for amount of Charmin floating around the premises of Milford High School.

So next time you are substitute-teaching at Mudlarkland and you find this Mt. Everest amount of Bounty in the faculty bathroom, you’ll know that it was because SOMEONE remembered at Milford High “There’s no ‘I’ in the word ‘Team'”. Maybe in the word “Shit” but SOMEONE was “Shitting” for the “Team”. Supposedly, anyway.

“Mrs. Thorp, please don’t squeeze the Charmin!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I wasn’t, Mr. Whipple. I was testing the firmness of these cabbages. It’s our turn to bring the food for the Milford PTA meeting and I’m bringing Southwest Salad Supreme. Where’s your Newman’s Own Roquefort?”

 

And you talk about false advertising. At least SOMEONE was coaching by faking his taking one for the team by faking his swelling of hemorrhoidal tissues. So Rick Scott had to apply a liberal dose to Chance’s crack. Whoop-de-dah. At least his butt was in order and the trainer’s medicine cabinet has an ample supply of Preparation H next to the Flintstone’s Chewables. Nice to know that if Charlie is called upon to fill in again in a pinch to run up the score, Chance will have plenty of Barney’s and Wilma’s when he’s faking his migraines. And doing his part to exercise leadership in the process.

Oh, not Gil, nooooooooo. True, he took the time from Milford Lounge to visit Chance’s grandparents to be assured Chance wasn’t Norman Bates. But he could have sent Lassie to investigate. And saved the trouble of prolonging his absentee landlord status in relation to the football team.

“Lassie, what’d you find out?”

RUFF

“Chance was an ax murderer? How’d he get released?”

RUFF

“He and Papillon jumped the fence? Weren’t they in chains?”

RUFF

“Oh, they were playing flag football.”

RUFF

“And leading The Mean Machine by a touchdown.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“30 Rolls Of Milford Tree Farms Toilet Towels Found In Shower Stall Of O. J.’s Condo!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Trail stops cold after contraband unloaded from Milford Roadway terminal.”

 

When I came home last night

You wouldn’t make love to me

You went fast asleep

You wouldn’t even talk to me

 

Give it to me, what you say

Give it to me right away

 

“Dear, you’ll have to turn that down. Chance just went to bed. And put my wig back on the dresser when you’re done funking. I need it for the Embroidery 101 class at Milford High Night School.”

 

On our journey that is the Mudlark Football season, we approach P2 with some reservations. Like who all these people are, which we assume are the fans and families who are celebrating the victory and well they should. I’m having a bit of a problem with the Kent State arrangement of humanity after the Milford National Guard just stepped on the gridiron but I think we can hold our breath that nothing is going to occur. Gil can blow his whistle should a Guardsman aim his Uzi at Chance or Grandma Macy. The whistle is being used for something since it was hanging in the linen closet in Gil’s office, y’know, the one with the windows affording a view of the Trump Towers. Gil was out on the road on another stint of absentee coaching. I heard Courtyard by Marriott gave discounts to Coaches In Absentia.

“But the coupon said that if I was not coaching 10 times, I’d get the 11th stay in a double suite. Free. Shoot, I can’t remember the last time I told the team ‘Win one for The Gipper’. I think when Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was released.”

“But the coupon expired after the Tet Offensive.”

 

SOME PEOPLE MIGHT SAY I’M INFATUATED

BUT I DON’T CARE

CUZ THEY JUST DON’T KNOW

THEY’LL NEVER SEE OR HEAR…

 

 

THEY CAN ALL GO TO HELLLLLLLLL

YOU AND I (DO DOOO)

WE GET TOGETHER LIKE GIL AND SHAW (DO DO DOOOOOOO)

Kaz knocks on the door leading into the Intro Woods class which is tightly locked

“Luhm, are you OK? I can hear that music all the way down at The Bucket.”

Luhm rips the needle off of the Vintage Vinyl “Come Get It!!!!!!!!”

“Yeah, just gotta dust the lathe machine and then damp-mop and buffer the floor. I’m good.”

 

RIP, Rick James. Your funkadelic style was an inspiration to many.

 

And while they’re rioting in the streets of Milford in P2, does somebody have a surgical kit handy? I think Gil and Charlie just welded their hands together with a soldering tool. I’ve heard of a coach bonding with his players but this is ridiculous. I hope neither has to go to the bathroom anytime soon. Man, it’s a bitch when one of the Siamese Twins has to let off a load in the Port-o-Pot. The other one can get the Charmin to wipe, assuming Luhm replaced the stolen merchandise.

 

If yore 3rd-shift foreman at Milford Foundry is bein’ non-existent but ya reach yore produk’tivitee goals in yore department and the man comes around ta reward y’all by turnin’up the air conditioner one degree so ya don’t sweat thru yore Hanes T-shirt so bad or smelly, ya might be a redneck.

 

And P3 arrived at the train station right on time.

One of the things I learned when I was pursuing a foreign language in school was that foreign countries, especially Europe, prided themselves on how PUNCTUAL their passenger trains were.

Well, the Orient Express couldn’t have arrived any sooner to practically take the credit for Charlie’s success. And as you can see, Bluto is willing to risk Foot-in-Beard disease to achieve his stated objectives.

Now before we go any further, I am inspired by Bluto’s Weight Watcher program that he has inflicted on himself. Last I remember, he had a paunch that could crush Olive Oyl in the opening round of the Milford Sumo Wrestling Holiday Tournament.

In P3, he has evidently weighed his portions punctiliously, using the metric balance scales he hocked from the Milford School Corporation Science Supply Building while fishing for Chance’s records. Hey, I need to lose a few pounds myself. Bluto, the next time you are in the complex digging for Chance’s dental records (“The pediatrician prescribed Poly-Grip????????”) , would you slip a balance my way? I need to count my Ritz Crackers wisely.

NOW, why in the name of Agatha Christie were we not surprised when Bluto showed his face again? This was the proverbial “Not if, but WHEN”. J. Wellington Wimpy, 1000 Bucket Burgers up his butt while munching on a Big Mac was not going to take part in the baccanalian affairs on the football field (A Funny Thing Happened To Me On The Way To The Football Field-“Something appealing, something appalling…”) to locate Charlie and talk about his TD run. Swee’ Pea was in bed. NO, BLUTO WAS GOING TO UPSTAGE POPEYE ONCE AGAIN AND SAY HE WAS THE ONE WHO INSPIRED HIM TO RUN LIKE FRANCO HARRIS OR ANY OF YOUR FAVORITE NFL RUNNING BACKS. Popeye forgot to eat his spinach and couldn’t inspire you to run around your living room or Gil’s office. Popeye and Bluto will not be at Denny’s for breakfast and Christian fellowship.

That off my chest, notice Gil doing a double-take in P3. The predictable continues. Stay tuned.

Assuming you’re well-endowed with Sominex.

 

“And that’s the gun signaling the end of the game. Milford wins it in a laugher, 121-10. I’ll have all the stats for you in a moment. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

SHE’S A VERY KINKY GIRL

THE KIND YOU DON’T BRING HOME TO MOTHER

SHE WILL NEVER LET YOUR SPIRITS DOWN

ONCE YOU GET HER OFF THE FIELD

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

 

“Yeah?”

“Gil, your wife just called again. It’s 10:35. Don’t you think you ought to go home to bed?”

“Kaz, I’m as lame as a lollipop that’s been out in the sun too long. I couldn’t stiff if I put on Dean Martin’s “Houston.”

“But Gil, you’ve been playing Super Freak for 3 hours. And I hope you aren’t dancing in your Fruit of the Loom boxers again.”

“Crap. I forgot that Luhm didn’t fix the curtain rod. Do you think anybody can see the lemon-lime pattern?”

“Maybe in the Trump Towers but they’d have to use binoculars and care about what you look like when dressed down to your Calvin Klein Boysenberry Print.”

“It’s just that Rick James gets me in the right mood. Sometimes it takes a little longer, especially after I’d eaten that Fazoli’s Sampler. Lasagna just slows any Erectile process. Bit me and Rick will be partying like it’s 1999. And I’ll be sawing the logs with Mimi cuz I’ll have something hard to saw with.”

“Gil, I think you mean Prince.”

A momentary check into the record inventory

“That’s right. I’ll be gettin’ pumped to Purple Rain by midnight.”

“Gil, I think a better solution would be checking out all the ways Milford Men’s Clinic can help you. They have proven techniques and equipment and you don’t need Milford Book and Music Exchange to solve your problem.”

“You’re saying I won’t need O’Jays ‘Money, Money, Money’ to junp on Mimi with confidence?”

“Gil,  I think you answered your own question.”

 

“There it was. I was confident to open my office door and let Kaz see me in my Hanes Fred Flintstone Print Boxers and Rick James wig. Price you pay if you want to be consistently efficient with your Significant Other. And I am having great sex and couldn’t care less if the tenant on the 11th floor of the Trump Towers sees us. They need to watch infomercials anyway. Come to Milford Men’s Clinic and be your own Funkmeister. Whay have you got to lose but the wig?

 

Gang, go to it. You have truly been patient and I thank you. I just hope Bluto doesn’t dig into my records and find out the reason.

 

At the Milford School Board meeting one evening

“And I also have records when his dad was down in the south, doing heists with Pretty Boy Floyd. What more evidence do we need to declare that Chance is not fit for the football team?”

“Mr. James, some of the evidence is circumstantial-”

“That’s Mr. Ballard!!!!!!!! You don’t recognize me?”

“The dreadlocks don’t match the beard.”

 

At the Milford Comedy Club on Open Mike Night

“…what do I look like, Rick James on the Quaker Oats label?”

Mimi stands up

“I better go out for a smoke break. Anybody got a light?”

“But you don’t smoke. When did you take up the cancer sticks?”

“Believe me, Gil is worth 2 cartons of Virginia Slims.”

November 6, 2019

Oh, What a Feeling!

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Is Chance trying out for the cheerleading squad or auditioning to sell Toyotas?

I realize I’m dating myself with the latter reference (“Ok Boomer” is the pissy way the kids are saying it this week IIRC). Speaking of pissy, nice shift from pissy-faced to all smiles by old Gildeaux there. You’d think Gil would be having a cow about one of his starters benching himself with a fake injury to give his backup some playing time, but it didn’t faze him that much when True Standish did it for Jarrod Hale a few years back.

Nope, Gil’s just relieved that Chance is staying away from The Bucket, where they have sharp utensils handy. Better Macy and his shadow teammates punch the air harmlessly, another audition to shill old Toyotas…

 

October 29, 2019

To Read Or Not To Read, Ay, There’s The Rub.

Filed under: Gil Thorp, Pissy faced Gil, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 8:54 am

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It was windy in Milford. The forecast called for a tornado later. Right now, my partner Bill Gannon and I were investigating a lightning bolt of our own and this one came without the customary soft rain that put you to sleep when you had a day off. That was a rarity on this load of dynamite we had on our hands. When kids go to practice, it’s just a load of Paradise the way Milford sees it. Blocking drills is a roller coaster ride at Six Flags over Milford. But when when there’s trouble because some kid argues with the teenager who runs the log flume because the kid thinks he has to give the punk teenager a ticket (“Just get on the damn ride!!!!!!!!! You paid for everything at the entrance, asshole!!!!!!!!!!”) , that’s when I go to work. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

We were working in the Juvenile Family History Fraud Interrogation Unit, Special Task Force Inquiry Detail. The boss is Captain De Windt. We had received complaints that certain undividuals were taking matters into their own hands, prying into pig slop not of their own household, just to make their own pig sty Lambeau Field. Personally, if I had to sift through someone’s file just to turn up a Hanes T-shirt with a Smuckers strawberry jelly stain, I’d rather sit in the Lambeau Field picnic area with a Cheese Head garment I dug out of the trash. Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.

“Any action, Joe?”

“None. Beaver still lives with the Clampetts.”

“I don’t get it. Why would some idiot go through the photo albums after he pried off the lock to the basement? Doesn’t make sense.”

“Guess is good as mine.”

“Oh look, Jethro just pulled up in the pickup with someone. God, that jerk looks like he needs a shave. And some Irish Spring. I can smell his B.O. through the air conditioner.”

It was time to go to work. Jethro Clampett had been coming in by himself. We were determined to find out why he drug in King Kong with the ugliest green tie this side of Mr. Huxtable off the street. The doggy doo was getting thicker and thicker and we’d have to purchase the heavy-duty Pooper Scooper from McShane’s hardware to sort through this pile of manure. Rent-a-Vac wasn’t going even to get the Jiffy Pop out of this gentleman’s beard.

 

Because I was intrigued recently by my workplace prohibiting loud pink pants as part of the dress code

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J.’s Niece On One Month Suspension From Her Carhop Job At The Bucket; Must Turn In The Skates!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J not happy. ‘Just because she came to work in her Bootsy Collins outfit I gave her for Christmas? C’mon, Man.'”

 

And I had to do a double take today. Normally Gil traipses into someone’s domicile as if he was taking a break from Advanced Badminton, dressed to the nines in his best gym teacher apparel. But today when he substituted the whistle for the Izod and Milford Pic-way penny loafers,  I knew we were onto something more somber. Only thing missing from this General Hospital setting was “Puttin’ on the Ritz” blaring over the sound system Grandpa Macy has set up in the living room.

Then there’s those pictures on the bureau. And what better way to accommodate the 1,573,409 portraits of the Clampetts and Beaver than to grace this melange with FTD Floral Design of the Month. Sexy.

“Oh, and here’s a picture of us and Chance in a coal mine, watching the miners apply their trade.”

“Wow. I never knew Chance had a CDL to drive a tram.”

“And here’s one of Chance with Captain Kangaroo before he went to jail on a charge of child molestation. Fortunately, Mr. Macy was there in case he or Mr. Green Jeans tried to rear-end grab.”

“Thank God security was there. I can see them in the background with their guns in the holster.”

“Oh, and here’s one of Chance riding on the merry-go-round with the Spanish Inquisition at the Milford County Fair.”

“Oh my goodness, I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition to ride on some cheap Arabion toy stallion.”

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMMMMMM

NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUSITION

“I swear, Chance is innocent!!!!!!!!!! He only got blowtop mad once when some Oakwood player called his mom a whore!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

If ya got half a million 5 × 7’s of ya posin’ with all yore beagles, and the other half are wallet-sized jobs ya got all while sittin’ on some piano stool down at Olan Mills Studio while yore family fotos are stored away in some closet by the kitchen, ya might be a redneck.

 

We leave Hamlet in P1 to figure out how he’s going to explain to Mimi why he’s late for Hamburger Helper (“I swear, Mimi, that portrait of him and Keith Moon standing in front of the Holiday Inn they just trashed took me for a loop. That 8 x 11 of them in the Cadillac in the swimming pool was priceless.”) , and we learn that Beaver at 12 (guessing) looks pretty good and it is indeed a nifty look with him and and his grandparents. Now if somebody can explain to me why Granny Clampett still looks like Granny Clampett while Jed Clampett lost a disproportionate amount of hair from the Milford Photography shoot up to the present, that person has my blessing when they play Milford Powerball at the Milford 7-11.

And Gil, get real. Kids are kids. And the only reason at this point why any dirt is being dug is some uncouth ADULT is engineering this just because the butthole wants more playing time for his own stepson.

And why are you bringing the kids into this anyway when this is as obvious as the nose on your face. Greg Brady isn’t going to be at some phone booth trying to sound like a grown man (“Why is Popeye calling about Chance’s time at Sing Sing?”) so that he can play first-string. Sure, there’s always jealousy among kids but they don’t go THAT FAR, mainly because they can’t and wouldn’t have a clue for the wherewithal to do it. Gil, you won’t see Dennis the Menace in Chance’s personal file.

And come on, Gil. Who ELSE would be calling about Chance’s dirty laundry, especially when Mr. Ballard has made it pretty clear to a lot of people involved his motives for sorting through the muck. Dr. Pearl? Steve Luhm? The Milford Barbershop Quartet? And BTW, Dr. Pearl may have aged gracefully from the Treaty of Paris but not like Granny Macy who aged in an Amana microwave.

Gil down at the Milford Lounge

“I don’t know what Jack Anderson wants with Chance’s reform school records. Does he have a kid on the reserves? He does? I never would have guessed. Bartender, another Fresca. And give me some Milford Vending Beer Nuts to go.”

 

What happened recently at the Milford Circle K Shell

“…WDIG-TV live here at the Milford Minimum Security Facility where our man on the case has discovered an inmate who knows who shot Coach Shaw.”

“Marty, John Upshaw, a lifer for petty thievery at The Bucket, says he was hocking Bucket hot buns in his trunk when a trusted informant says he saw the culprit who pulled the trigger. He’s here with us now.”

“That’s right, Marty and Harold. The weapon was a doozy. The one who used the weapon was none other than-”

BEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Clerk has receipt

 

 

And now we get to the part in the Louis L’Amour dime novel where Dude Macy is at Last Gulch Junction about to have it out with Sheriff Wyatt Thorp. Sheriff Thorp has dug up all the gold and yearbooks out of Cripple Creek that was undisturbed by even the grizzlies in a oaken chest and now it’s high noon at Durango.

And Sheriff Wyatt Thorp could make the Tombstone moment more effective if the camera would stop inflicting us with half a crotch shot. Bat Masterson’s left cheek is keeping us from appreciating the call to justice that is The Wild West. One of these days we will see the Clanton Boys knocked off their horses with 6-shooters once we remove Fred Flintstone’s butt.

Right now, Chance has come home and his obvious curiosity is leading us into tomorrow. Hope it goes somewhere. Just leave the derriere out of the picture. Crotch shots of Dagwood when he’s arguing with Mr. Dithers for a raise we could do without.

 

Late at night on WDIG-TV with Barth and Jerry hosting Milford 2 Nite

“Our next guest claims he’s Milford’s Unoffficial Ambassador for Industry. Trying like H-E-double hockey sticks to bring new companies right here in M-town, I suppose. Would you please welcome Mr. William W.D. “Gil” Prize.”

Applause as “Gil” walks out with a chin strap and wiffleball, only the wiffleball is holding back the front of his hair.

“Ah, Mr. Prize, good to see you again. I understand you have a new company, Mattel, that will have a Hot Wheels plant in the works right on the edge of town.”

“That’s right, Barth, ya cain’t build enough toy motorages for the kiddies to play with. Why if ol’ Chancer had a coupla hot rods in his room, he wouldnda robbed The Bucket.”

“Reform comes in many ways, I reckon. We have some mail and we’d like to read a couple of letters about the new factory before we go on. Jerry has the first one.”

“Who’s that imbecil with that basketball in his hair?”

“Well, Mr. Prize-”

“Ya can call me ‘Gil’.”

“Alright, ‘Gil’, let’s read another one. Maybe it’ll get to the heart of the matter. Jerry?”

“Barth, here’s one. It says ‘Tell Tutankamen Head that the Hieroglyphic Period ended when Dr. Pearl graduated with her Masters.'”

“That just makes me so daggone mad!!!!!!!!!!! That just-”

“‘Gil, WHAT IS that thing in your hair.”

“I have an protrusion in my forehead and th’ only way ta slap it back inta submission is get a coupla harness wires, some penny nails, and a wiffleball.”

“Barth, I think it’s a good idea. Just use some linseed oil in case the wiffle ball gets tangled up in his bangs. I’m just saying. I had a friend of mine that had to use a hacksaw to separate his locks from a shuttlecock.”

“Jerry, I’d love to see YOU get tangled up in Ms. Rizk’s typewriter.”

“Barth and Jerry, this overbite in my forehead will go away once I’s apply th’ necessary pressurage ta the sitauation at the forehands.”

“I’d do a forehand smash on your hair.”

JERRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Comment to your heart’s content, Gang. Me and Barth and Jerry are going to try to pry that football off of Gil’s chin. He’s had overbite in his hair and underbite in his chin for 60 years but this is ridiculous.

 

10:32PM. The Tornado Watch had passed but Milford still had a warm front to deal with. My partner Bill and I were in some warm water of our own and this one didn’t use Mr. Bubble.

We were on stakeout at Chance’s house. Even though Chance had done his homework and was already in bed, we couldn’t be too careful. We’d heard Bozo the Clown was out snooping the neighborhood from a tip we got from Mrs. Kravits. Gil never figured out who’d been prying into Chance’s affairs although we could see the writing on the wall and we don’t mean “Gil sucks” that was spray-painted on the doors at Entrance A of Milford’s gym. If Gil couldn’t figure out that it was Chet Ballard, he needed to get his A license and haul for Milford Trucking. No wonder why he couldn’t coach a dog at a fire hydrant. And other than Grandpa Macy going down to Milford’s 24-Hour Apothecary for Rogaine, there was not much activity to report. There usually wasn’t in this plot.

“Joe, let’s call it a night. I’m bored out of my skull.”

“Same here. Wanna hit The Bucket again? I’ll go half on Bucket Buffalo Wings ‘n’ TartaSauce.”

“Sure. Anything’s better than watch Gil down his 3rd bafg of Chips Ahoy.”

“God, I hope Gil coaches better than the Keebler Elves.”

“I agree. How ’bout adding Bucket Chili Fries to that order?”

“Sounds good. Let’s go.”

 

“…and Jim Joe Johnson says to Jerry Pulver, I can tackle better than a whale. Why ol’ Moby Dick missed so many tackles, ya thought he was playin’ for Tilden…”

“‘Gil, I think you talk better than you coach.”

“Shoot, I’ll coach a donkey’s leg off…”

 

October 25, 2019

An the editor of this strip sucks.

The way this strip is going it was only a matter of time before a literal mistake slipped past the editors. P1 Marjie says ‘And odd..’ instead of ‘an odd…’ Bing. (That was for Ned Ryerson)

So Chet Chit Chat decides to make an anonymous call to the Milford Star, describing what he saw in the files about Chance…. After at least 2 people advised him to leave everything alone and MYOB. He really listens huh? So he goes undercover so he wont be discovered as meddling, when in fact modern tracing techniques on voicemails can easily trace the call to him eventually.

So Marjie tells Gil, who then calls Chances parents ( Hey if he has a minute for Marjie, why cant they have at least 5 for him?) and visits their house to discuss the whole Chance backstory.

Now– good for Marjie for not running with a story by an anonymous source, but does she really take every goofy call she gets as a serious issue, passing the buck to someone else to do the actual investigating? At that rate, every teacher in the school would be busy de-fusing false rumors. Hey they got better things to do!

Why  doesnt Chet just come out and call Marjie himself and have her over at his house to tell the story, instead of keeping the whole thing a secret? Because everyone else told him to forget about it, and he wants to have his cake and eat it too, effectively. If the press finds out all these things about Chance, believe me even in a dopeland like Milford, they wont publish anything without knowing who leaked all the info.

I’m a little young to remember a lot about Watergate, but Chet reminds me of someone in that case.

Deepthroat.

October 24, 2019

Bluto Applies Gillette Foam When He Shaves With The Bottom Of The Cartoon Panel, Shouldn’t You?

Filed under: Gil Thorp, Marjie Ducey, Milford Idiots, Pissy faced Chet Ballard — tdrewhardin @ 3:24 am

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Aaaaaaa, there ain’t nuthin’ good on the Vulcan Channel, Milford Enquirer TV section says The Partridge Family is on A & E-hey, wait a minute, is that a basketball? And is that Mike Patrick and Dickie V? And it’s Thursday Night Showcase!!!! Boy, am I in luck.

“…they’re rockin’ and rollin’ here on the S.S. Enterprise!!!!!!!!!! Jatarvious Spock and Dr. McCoy, the best 1-2 combo in the universe, babyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!! The fleet is a Rolls-Royce program…”

Some things never change.

 

Let me get in my serious mode for a second. If Marjie can have one, so can I

The sad truth is, this shameful and disgraceful display of conduct performed by Chet Ballard hits too close to home. Anybody who has had kids in sports knows that people like this exist.

The one thing I have had the good fortune to encounter is all the City, Regional, and State Championships I have been a part of. I say that with all humility.

But the FIRST AND FOREMOST priority when dealing with kids in sports is KEEP ‘EM OFF THE STREETS. And that means many times swallowing your ego and realizing that even if the team is in last place, if your kid is enjoying him- or herself and giving his or her best, that is all you can ask for. Anybody who played for me knew to lay it all on the line, regardless of the score. Don’t half-ass things. I used to always say that you won’t regret it in 10 years. They understood.

So when you do win the hardware, it is sweetness, baby. Nothing wrong with braggin’ rights if you’ve done things the right way. You never want to be a bad example for kids.

So when I see idiots like Chet, I just cringe. Unfortunately, people like this Cretin exist and give kids’ sports a bad name. You know the type. It will sacrifice ethics and common sense just to promote its own selfish end. The Chets out there are like Esau in the Bible, they will sacrifice their good name all for a bowl of stew.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m like our high school cross country coach, winning isn’t everything, but losing sucks. But if I have to cross over a line just to get a kid’s trophy like Chet is doing, well, as Rick Nelson once sang, I’d rather drive a truck.

The good news is, what goes ’round, comes ’round’. I’ve seen the Chets get hoisted by their own petard. This one, sadly enough, will possibly be no exception.

 

That out of the way, Gang, aren’t you tired of the combo Flexart-by-Thorpiverse/Henri Matisse Still Life Rough Draft techniques method that is post-Berrill art class? The other day, Mrs. Ballard was a bitchin’ thang that do any ZZ Top video, particularly with Chet in “Sharp Head Man”

“…Crude beard

Cheap slacks

Man, his ethics give me a heart attack

 

Green ties

Steinway teeth

His ambitions on a Christmas wreath

 

She’s gonna go runnin’ just as fast as she can

Doris Day is married to the Sharp Head Man”

 

Ah, Eliminator always comes through when gouging crummy plots.

Anyhoo, today she is Dr. Spock’s oldest daughter with a waistline only a former cheerleader for the Mudlarks back in ’58 when Gil had hair (oops, he still has that Wailing Wall 6 decades later) could be proud of. The only thing missing is the Vulcan ears but I’m sure she’ll put them back on when dinner is ready. But then she STILL has that figure that only shows up at the Bingo Auction at Milford Senior Citizen Residential Center on Wednesday night. That’s right, Mrs. Ballard, don’t get mad, get Glad. And throw away Chet’s moral code if you have a spare.

 

Because I would never take up an offer of $20,000 to go through McKamey Manor, reported to be the scariest haunted house in the world (no, I am not signing 40 pages of documents-“I will not hold the company liable if I see Mimi sawed in two”- nor am I going to contrive a code word should Chet’s ethics be uglier than a werewolf when its son dropped the winning TD pass for the Mudlarks-“Gimme a barf bag!!!!!!!!! Gil’s coaching again!!!!!!!!!” “That’s the ticket. Show’s over. Refund the guy’s money and let him through the back gate.”)

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Shouts Out Safe Word After Touring The Kitchen Area Of The Bucket!!!!!!!!!!! Loses Free Supply Of Bucket Tuna Burgers For Life!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“‘I had to shout out ‘Barnabas Collins eats worms and Gil’s hair’ after seeing what they did with Bucket Squid Salad.'”

 

We now return to P1, Big Thursday, already in progress

“…look how Zulu sets up ball-you-man when the Klingon attempts to establish position on the low post FREEZE IT!!!!!!!!!!! The Klingon is taken out of position and has to resort to baseline fadeaways, something Captain Kirk diagrammed when defending against Khan’s team…”

And where does Chet find the time to sell insurance since he’s been digging into the dirt? That recliner chair he purchased from Stonehenge had to have been semi-expensive. Will he make the final payment by the time Charlie graduates. Pre-pay your loans, Chet, when you’re not imitating Geraldo.

And I still can’t get over that dude with the capuchin anchoring ESPN College Basketball. Is John Saunders the color man for Marty Moon at WDIG when Ernie the P has to study for his SAT’s? As long as we’re going to watch ESPN Super Tuesday feed into The Vulcan Network with Larry Conley and Roger Twibell commenting on the Arkansas/Missouri matchup, am I required to watch The Wrath of Kahn while a Mizzou goes up for a slam in Fayetteville?

“…and what a finish to an excellent back-door cut and the Razorback crowd is getting really antsy!!!!!!!!!!”

“Ohhhhhhhh, SLAM JAM BAM!!!!!!!!!!! Kahn is a real Diaper Dandy!!!!!!! I put him on my All-Bestie team!!!!!!!!! He’s a real space-eater, literally, in the court!!!!!!!!!! Ohhhhhhhhh, better get a T.O., Captain Kirk, I’m smellin’ a run!!!!!!!!!!!!”

You sort it out.

Then there’s those candles on the TV stand. They could only be of use when the power goes out and you still need to watch Big Monday, which is fed off of an auxiliary fuse box in the Bat Cave. I’ll admit it adds to the decor in the interim. It diminishes the scraggliness of the beard of a one Chet Ballard.

 

If ya shave with a sharpened butter knife that ya use ta open yore mail and then trim yore sideburns with the hedge clippers that ya use ta pare yore branches off the tree emanatin’ from yore neighbor’s yard, then use pine tar for after-shave, ya might be a redneck.

 

And anybody falling for Chet’s half-assed response in P2 has only his- or herself to blame if Chet warms the bed for Papa Bader. Which, BTW, works out well since I understand The Mean Machine needs an asshole defensive lineman to take Ted Cassidy’s place (Lurch to the common man) since the latter got paroled. Oh, I can see this one

“…and Chance Macy finds a hole, he’s at the 40, the 30, the 20, OMG!!!!!!!!!! Chet clotheslines him and sends Macy to La La Land!!!!!!!!!!!!”

At the sideline

I BROKE HIS F—IN NECK!!!!!!!!!!!!

You can watch the rest of the movie and see what happens.

The point is, this lukewarm response in P2 just to get his honey off his back can only be leaving a gap wider than the Milford & Oakwood Express to ride through. Anybody who believes differently, all I can say is that I have property full of Milford Beverage Warehouse shopping carts behind the Milford City Assessor’s Office to sell ya cheap.

 

On the sideline, Gil in obvious shock

“Kaz, I think he broke his F—IN neck.”

 

“…and the Broyhill said to the Ethan Allen, ‘What do I look like, two sorry-ass slabs of limestone that folds into a cot when you’re done reclining after Wednesday Night Hoops between Carolina and Duke and you drift off to sleep?”

“Gil, I’m going to break YOUR F—IN neck if you don’t come to bed.”

 

“…and Scotty has just done a phenomenal job with this program. The S.S. Enterprise has just taken the Klingons out of what they want to do. He’s a candidate for a  head coaching job somewhere, I understand Purdue and Louisville have been talking…”

 

Then Marjie comes out of nowhere, might as well be The Vulcan Network, to talk with Gil. And after Gil exhanges funnys with Marjie, we assume we’re going to get down to the nitty-gritty of how she slipped to Gil’s office without a hall pass.

And what else could it be but very likely to do with Chet’s shenanigans? What ELSE has been going on this season? And I’m curious where Marjie would be getting her information if that indeed is the case. Was she imitating Plastic Man and seeping into the water cooler and observing Chet’s lack of ethics while he was Xeroxing Chance’s transcript from his third grade academic record? I’m sure punching the music teacher’s lights out because she was criticizing Chance’s rendition of “Trouble” from The Music Man (“NOOO!!!!!!! It’s not ‘…and rhymes with ‘Z’ and that spells TROUBLE…'”) but no way am I getting doused with Perrier just to get the smackdown on somebody. But I’m getting the sneakin’ suspicion that’s where we’re headed (“Gil, I think Chance broke The Music Man’s F—IN neck!!!!!!!!!”) . Hoo boy.

Who won the ball game, BTW? Enterprise in OT? Not surprised. Khan lost a lot to graduation.

 

“And Charlie Roh has done admirably, given the overbearing nature of his step-father. I wouldn’t call him ‘Dad’ either. Just names I can’t say on the air. I’ve already been suspended once. We’ll be back after these messages, with the score, Milford, 34, Generic Team of the Week, zip. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

“Can you believe that The Bucket is trying to be a haunted house? It’s bad enough that the absentee owner won’t give up after the Milford Beverage Commission voted down his request for a liquor license again. What do they hope to accomplish by turning it into The Munsters’ residence?

“Hi, this Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse. All I can say is that if you have to have spider webs by the Hamilton Beach Smoothie Blender, something that was ALREADY there before they started decorating, it’s because they are despearte and are lapping up to the best deals this half of the comic page.

Check out these deals. A 24-pack of Drewery’s Smooth, a scary bargain at 18.99 and we’ll even throw in a bag of Milford Confectionary Pepper Corns if you bring the family. Hey, the family that shops for booze together,. stays together, the way I look at it. Yeah, let The Bucket try to match that one. I understand they got Charlie Brown’s rocks when they went to the Beverage Commision meeting even trying to turn it into The Amityville Horror. No pigs are going to fly out of the Bucket Popcorn machine and scare anybody, c’mon.

And Smirnoff Money and Cigarettes 30 Ounce Premium Vodka, A Russian way to salute Eric Clapton? Oh, Let It Rain for only $15.49. And if The Bucket says they can sneak that to customers when Frankenstein is scaring away the Commission’s children, don’t believe them. Everybody knows Kanamits are good actors. The Bucket couldn’t sell the stuff at that price when the Kanamits tried to imitate Count Dracula.

Then we still have our usual BOGO specials, guaranteed even to please even the most discriminating Blatz connoisseur. That’s right, buy one Falls City Dark ‘n’ Dirty 12-pack at regular price, get the second one FREE. Shoot, you know where I’m going after I leave the studio here and it isn’t down to the Poltergeist Fun House-wannabe that The Bucket is attempting to promote. I’ll pass on the BOGO Ticket Special to see the Wicked Witch of the West in person. She overdosed her hair on VO5 anyway.

Come on down and see a REAL business and get a slice of The Good Life while you’re at it. If you’re into The Mothman Prophecy and believe he’ll be signing autographs and footin’ the tab on Bucket Burgers after he scared the shit out of people, well, good luck. I understand the Bud truck is still in the parking lot and the reason why it’s there is to get a Bucket Banana Split. The Commission won’t go any further.

Come get your own Milk and Honey where the Commission has OK’d the pipeline and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

All right, Gang, have at it. And if you still want that Brooklyn Bridge, it’s still for sale.

 

AHHHHHHHHH IT’S GOT ME!!!!!!!!! I KNOW THE SAFE WORD!!!!!!!!! JERRY PULVER KILLED THE RADIO STAR!!!!!!!!!-“Marty Moon, what are you doing at The Bucket Amityville Horror?”

“What does it look like? I’m ordering from the menu. Haven’t had a bite all day. Waiter, can you do a Bucket Burger medium-rare…”

 

Speaking of Marty Moon

Middle of 2nd quarter

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, I THINK HE BROKE HIS F—IN NECK

 

Later, in the Station Manager’s office at WDIG

“I swear, the word was blanked out. you could only see the ‘F’.”

 

October 23, 2019

A Shot of MYOB With a Cup of STFU Chaser

gt10232019

Something tells me Chet Ballard strikes out with his wife on a regular basis. Probably why we haven’t seen any siblings for Charlie. Maybe he’ll get lucky at school.

I’m not sure if this unnamed school board lady is the same one Ballard went to when he wanted to make a test case out of Tiki Jansen (in which case her name is Carol), but for the sake of today’s post let’s assume she is. Carol’s seen enough of Chet’s crap to know this needs to be nipped in the bud. This being mid-October, however, it’s too early for Chet to let this go.

So who does Ballard turn to next? Marty Moon? He has been known to let Milfordians (Milfordites?) go on the air and put their feet in their mouths. Seeing as it’s his town, Marty might decide there’s only room for one bearded blowhard. That leaves Marjie Ducey, Gil himself, or a billboard outside Milford.

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